Psychobabble: A Collection
by Jaquiline Hyde
Summary: The mind remembers the most insignificant things, it seems. A collection of drabbles, ficlets, little things that had no other place. Genres, ratings may vary.
1. Crash

A/N: Welcome to a collection of Psychonaut based ficlets. That's right, I'm talking about "Psychobabble." :D All themes were found on some lj "100 Themes" comm, though I can't be arsed to say where. Well, I won't waste more time here. All titles are the themes in question, and I'm going to _try_ to go in order, but I make no promises. 

Disclaimer: Psychonauts mine. Psychonauts belongs to Doublefine  
Pairing: None  
Rating: G  
Notes: Okay, so how _awesome_ is the introduction to Psychonauts? I'm just saying.

**Crash**

Man, I am so _beat._ I can't believe I rode _25 miles_ on a miniature pony. That was one tough little pony. Still, I'm here. I'm actually here! Camp Whispering Rock, I actually made it, I'm so awesome-

I think I'm sitting on a bird's nest.

Okay, that's better. I hope there weren't any eggs in that nest... is that - yeah, that's totally a campfire. Oh, hey, people! Let's get even closer, shall we?

_ Holy crap it's Sasha Nein and Milla Vodello and some tiny red guy Agent Oleander? I thought he'd be taller holy crap holy crap._ Raz! Stay calm, Raz. Psychonaut agents don't freak out like little girls. You want to be a Psychonaut, right?

More than_ anything_.

Agent Oleander's making a speech now. I think it's important? It sounds familiar. Let's listen then. ...Okay, this guy's crazy. Ooh, campers. Fellow agents! I really still can't see very well- I'm gonna move over there juuuust a little bit. Wait, is the branch cracki- woah!

...Ouch. Ground. Thank you, Señor Bush, for breaking my fall. Dad would be _ashamed _of me, landing on my butt like that. ...I mean... even more ashamed than he already is, but whatever.

?"LAKE MONSTER!" Lots of screaming, followed by "Formation!"

Hey! Hey, what? Get your psychic vibes away from me! No way, you can't catch me.

?"It's... resisting."

_Yikes._ Pumped up psychic energy, no way I'm a match for that.

Okay, so... now I'm in the air. ...That's_ so cool_.

"What is it?" Sasha Nein! Agent Razputin, reporting for duty!

"It's just a little boy! What's your name, darling?"

"I'll find out." Okay, I respect the Agency and everything, totally happy to be here, really, but I'm not ready to crack open my head for all to see, as it were. "Can't... get... in!" The coach gives up and I'm falling for the second time that night. Dad would be much happier with that landing. Not that I care what he thinks, 'cause I totally _don't._

"My name..."

"Starts with a D!"

"...is _Razputin_. But everybody calls me... _Raz_."

I am so damn cool. This... this is going to be the greatest summer _ever._

**End**


	2. Dim

Disclaimer: Psychonauts ≠ mine. Psychonauts Doublefine.  
Pairing: None  
Rating: G  
Notes: No real squirrels were harmed in the writing of this ficlet. Dogen's a fun character, disturbed and bewildering though he may be. I'm surprised that more people haven't tried to figure the little seafoam green dude out. You know that if you go to the campfire area and poke around the totem poles, you'll see a picture of a fellow named 'Compton Boole?' I'm forced to wonder what the rest of Dogen's family is like...

**Dim**

"Missus Boole?" the tutor started, hesitantly. He waited a moment for the stout woman to respond, but she remained silent, continuing to fold sheets of tinfoil into little child-sized hats. The tutor coughed.

"Missus Boole, um, I think I may have to resign," he managed, finally, wincing at the sound of a small explosion coming from the direction of the family's living room. Bits of fur and fluff landed by his feet, soon accompanied by the button eye of some unfortunate stuffed toy.

The lady of the house stopped folding and looked at him with large eyes, a calm smile across her perfectly average face.

"And why is that?"

"Well, er. I'm afraid something may be troubling young Dogen, something that I'm not, er. Aptly prepared to take care of. Also my tie spontaneously combusted, and he started apologizing about his aim being off." He paused and fingered the remnants of his squirrel-print tie.

"Missus Boole, I think there may be something seriously wrong with Dogen, and I think you should seek help."

Mrs. Boole sighed and shook her head, as if used to answering to her son almost exploding someone in her own home.

"Oh, no, Mister Tutor. He's just like that."

**End**


	3. Futile

Disclaimer: Psychonauts ≠ mine. Psychonauts belongs to Doublefine.  
Pairing: None  
Rating: G  
Notes: Fred, pre-crazy, while working at Thorney Towers. I think Fred may be my favorite asylum inmate as far as personality goes.

**Futile**

"Gee, uh... you're kinda good at this, aren't you, Crispin? Heh." Fred offered with a weak laugh. 'Kinda good' didn't really cover it. The freakish creature across from him had won six games of _Waterloo_ and frankly, it was beginning to work on Fred's nerves, but he wasn't about to admit that. He was an Orderly, for Christ's sake, he wasn't about to throw a fit in front of a legitimately nutso person.

"It would appear so, Orderly Bonaparte." Fred started. That was the first time Crispin had actually said anything directed towards him. Actually that was the first time Crispin had said anything that wasn't a gurgle or a manic giggle. Crispin said _Bonaparte_ like it was a joke. Fred stared a moment longer, before Crispin shot him a look that said, very clearly, 'What are _you_ looking at?' Fred cleared his throat.

"So, uh... I'm... kinda _tired_..." Fred offered lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the game board, couldn't help but wonder why his strategies sucked as much as they did and why the loony whackjob across from him was doing fine. A fine layer of sweat broke out on his forehead as Crispin spoke his next words.

"Would you like to play again?"

Well... Well, he'd have to win at least _once_, right?

**End**


End file.
